


Thunderbolt and lightning (very, very frightening)

by nightbloomingcereus



Series: Name That Author prompt fills [10]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Rated T for thunderstorms and thirst, Storm Chaser!Crowley, Weatherman!Aziraphale, bickerflirting, overuse of weather metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27691384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbloomingcereus/pseuds/nightbloomingcereus
Summary: "Aziraphale.  My favorite glorified fortune-teller.""Crowley.  Meteorology is a serious science, unlike recklessly driving into storms, wearing sunglasses when there's no sun in sight, and documenting it on the Internet."A weatherman/storm chaser AU.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Name That Author prompt fills [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737703
Comments: 31
Kudos: 106
Collections: NTA #10 - GO Events Server - Cumulonimbus





	Thunderbolt and lightning (very, very frightening)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "cumulonimbus" for the Name That Author Game on the GO-events server.

"… Expect heavy rains and intense wind gusts. Take precautions and stay safe. I personally shall be weathering this storm safely indoors, with a nice cup of cocoa and a good book."

The camera panned out, one final shot of dark clouds massing ominously along the horizon, then switched off abruptly. Newt sighed. "Damnit, it's died on me again. Guess we're done here. Coming, Aziraphale?"

No response. Aziraphale was already striding toward an unmistakable vintage black Bentley. A lanky, red-headed man clambered out of it. 

Newt shook his head knowingly and drove off.

"Aziraphale. My favorite glorified fortune-teller."

"Crowley. Meteorology is a serious science, unlike recklessly driving into storms, wearing sunglasses when there's no sun in sight, and documenting it on the Internet."

(Aziraphale would never admit it to anyone, least of all Crowley, but he'd watched every single video and read every single blog post.)

"At least people find me entertaining. _Your_ entire viewership is bored housewives with bow tie fetishes."

(Crowley would never admit it to anyone, least of all Aziraphale, but he tuned in every morning for a glimpse of storm-cloud eyes and, yes, that bow tie.)

"Oh, please. We both know all _your_ followers are just here for those tight trousers." 

(Aziraphale certainly was. Well, that and the ass _in_ the trousers.)

"Hey, now. At least ten percent of them are in it for the Bentley."

"Regardless. Your lack of meteorological knowledge is laughable."

"Storm's coming. I can feel it in my bones," Crowley said, stretching his arms over his head languorously, revealing a tantalizing strip of bare skin above his waistband. The curvature of his back was very nearly serpentine.

"Your bones seem highly suspect to me. Sometimes I wonder if you even have any."

"Those clouds there. They're… cumulonumpty… cumulolimp… fucking thunderheads. There, I know my meteorology."

"Cumulonimbus," said Aziraphale, precisely enunciating each syllable. 

"Show-off."

Aziraphale grinned, like the bastard he was. The air felt electric, no doubt due to the approaching storm.

" _Cumulonimbus_ , from the Latin _cumulus,_ meaning heaped, and _nimbus_ , meaning rainstorm—"

"Oh, _shut up_."

"Make me."

And then Aziraphale found himself abruptly slammed into the side of the Bentley, Crowley's whole body pressed against his, and he was too busy kissing Crowley back to keep talking. 

They were interrupted by the first drops of rain.

"Gotta go, Angel. Storm won't chase itself."

"I wish you wouldn't. It really is going to be a bad one, you know. My models are predicting a possible tornado."

"All the more reason to go. Imagine the thrill."

"They're terribly dangerous."

"I'll be _fine_."

"I'd hate if anything were to happen to you."

"You could say _I told you so_ , for once. Smug as you like."

"Or I could offer you something better. Something more thrilling than thunderstorms."

The air crackled with the promise of lightning. The backseat of the Bentley would be cramped and tight, but that just meant that they'd have to hold each other that much closer while the storm raged overhead. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen, of course. It's also the name of storm chaser A. J. Crowley's Youtube channel. ;)
> 
> I may write more in this universe, but no promises on when.


End file.
